


A Windfall

by Vilna



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:26:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27632720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vilna/pseuds/Vilna
Summary: 4. “I just…” You pause and think. “Can you just tell me one thing? Just one.”“Anything,” Ava promises immediately and you almost laugh because isn’t that the most ironic thing ever? Because the truth is Ava has so far given younothing.― a series of different types of first times.
Relationships: Female Detective/Ava du Mortain, Female Detective/Farah Hauville, Female Detective/Morgan (The Wayhaven Chronicles), Female Detective/Natalie "Nat" Sewell
Comments: 34
Kudos: 92





	1. 1: the first time morgan stayed the night

**Author's Note:**

> This is a small series I've been planning on for a while and now! Small (or not so small........) ficlets of the detective experiencing different types of first times with Unit Bravo!!
> 
> NOTES: detective's identity is kept vague so everyone can insert their own OC if they want to, but they are female and will be referred to as she/her pronouns in the text. I didn't tag the other ships yet (because I don't want this to show on tags when there's no actual content for the pairing yet), but all of the chapters are going to be with the female members of UB. I don't think the rating will go higher than mature for now, but we will see what happens!!
> 
> We're starting off with Morgan and the first time she stayed the night at the detective's place. This is actually my first time writing about her so I'm a little nervous about it, but I hope you will find it enjoyable!! Kudos & comments make my day as always. ♥

It's perhaps around six in the morning when you wake up for the first time to the feeling of someone wrapping their arms around your naked chest. You blink a few times when there's a flash of sharp teeth against your neck before someone chuckles and a palm cups your breast.

You swallow. Look down just to see wicked, purple nails drooping their way to your soft belly and tracing the slight curve of slowly.

"Morgan?"

Possibly a stupid enquiry considering the answer is pretty much a certainty. There's no reply, only an amused breath against your shoulder. You shiver but not without shame for always being so damn easy.

Maybe you should act scared, you think absently before a sigh drops out of your well-kissed mouth. Morgan would probably adore that and eat you up.

"Always so damn perfect like this," Morgan rumbles into your ear and then she touches the wet heat of your core and you're done for.

*

The second time you wake up that morning, your bed is empty and cold. You glance at the clock on your bedside table. 8:37 am. Thank god, it's Saturday.

You're fairly sure you _didn't_ dream the heated encounter that happened a couple hours ago, but you also wouldn't put it past yourself. After all, you're just as hungry as Morgan -- just not as lewd and honest about it. You're not so far apart as you originally thought when you met her and kind of wanted to slash her hypothetical car's tires.

Yet somehow, despite knowing better, the disappointment of Morgan leaving you again is crushing.

Which is more than a little idiotic considering it's pretty much the norm at this point as Morgan has never stayed over before. She's been very adamant about that right from the beginning. She said _no thank you, sweetheart,_ to your face with an amused grin and that's how it's been ever since that first time you had sex together.

And, admittedly, you've had sex _a lot_ after that. Plenty of opportunities to change one's mind. It's hard not to blush while thinking about how utterly and completely Morgan has conquered you -- the _whole_ you. Every little piece of you feels like it's hers already and isn't that so damn heartbreaking that you give so much of yourself only to gain what feels like a condescending pat on the top of your head.

It's fine. Everything is fine and you don't mind her leaving at all, you tell yourself but can't help but wince right afterwards. It's not as if you expected it to change anytime soon -- if ever -- so it's quite disturbing that all of the sudden you're so hurt about it.

You defy your need to let out a longing sigh and get up on your shaky feet instead, wrapping your tired body into a fluffy bathrobe and putting on your favourite bunny slippers that Tina gave you as a gift after you made detective.

You barely glance at the mirror on the opposite side of the wall -- you know by heart how you will look like after a night spent with Morgan. Your neck feels sore and you know that she’s far from subtle. It’s good that you don’t mind one bit.

You make your way to the bedroom door and open it, so completely lost in thought that you don't notice the smell of freshly made coffee and cigarette smoke before you actually see Morgan.

She's leaning on your kitchen counter next to an open window with a half-burned cigarette between her long fingers and watches you with an almost bored-looking expression.

You stop. You stare.

"Morning, sweetheart," Morgan says finally after the silence between you two has stretched over its bounds. Her voice is rough and impossibly attractive, affecting your mind and body even when you're still half-asleep.

But you pointedly _do not_ blush, because you feel like you're way above that.

"I didn't expect you to be still here," you say with an arched brow, your heart beginning to sprint inside your ribcage. You flick your gaze at the coffee machine and smile crookedly. "Never mind making me breakfast."

It's just coffee but you don't care. Morgan was sweet enough to do that for you and the thought of that makes your chest feel light.

Morgan scoffs. "Don't read too much into it," she replies and takes a slow drag of her cigarette. Her eyes never leave yours. "I was just bored with you sleeping for so damn long."

Somehow, you doubt it but you choose not to tease her too much -- you're far too happy about her being here and actually _waiting_ for you. About her not leaving while you slept for the first time since you started doing this, about her starting to show signs of care (no matter how small they might be) and about her being so comfortable in your space that she has done this one simple, yet thoughtful, thing for you.

"Still," you say. "Thanks."

"...Whatever," Morgan only mutters with a shrug. Then she seemingly takes another (slow) look at you before chuckling surprisingly loudly. "What the fuck are you wearing?"

You can feel your cheeks flushing. You glance at your feet. You always thought the bunny slippers were adorable as hell. Tina has good taste and would disembowel you if you ever said one bad word about a gift she’s given to you.

"Please, don't make fun of them," you say a little desperately. Morgan’s eyes flash at the tone of your voice. "They were a gift."

Morgan grins, looking almost delighted. She drops her cigarette down from the window and stalks slowly towards you, like the predator she is, but you've learned to stand your ground and not retreat. You're not afraid -- you've never been afraid of her.

All the time, you just want her. You want her and hope for nothing more than for her to desire you like that as well.

Morgan is close enough to loom over you now, pressed so close but far enough that not one body part of you are touching. Morgan smirks and lifts her hand (slowly slowly slowly) to tuck a part of your hair behind your ear, before she leans in and whispers teasingly:

“You’re cute as shit, sweetheart.”

Then she pinches your chin between her thumb and forefinger and keeps her eyes open and locked into yours as she closes the distance between you and kisses you for what feels like the first time in forever.

You’re surprised to notice that in addition to the usual heat and hunger, there’s something almost painfully sweet about it. Morgan also doesn’t seem to be leading the kiss for something more either, she breaks apart after licking into your mouth for a few moments and smiles so genuinely it almost hurts.

“Now, move your ass,” she says suddenly and steps away, far too sooner than you’d hope. She grins at your expression.

“We’re supposed to be at the warehouse in 15 minutes,” Morgan continues before making her way to the front door. “I’ll wait outside.”

You groan and glance at the clock. There goes your weekend -- what an utter surprise. “You could have woken me up earlier instead of waiting for me, you know.”

Morgan pauses and turns to look at you. There’s a look in her eyes that you’ve never seen before. “No,” she says quietly. “I really couldn’t.”


	2. 2: the first argument with nat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can take care of yourself. You want to able to take care of _her_ , too, and maybe --
> 
> You sigh again and burrow your face into one of the fluffy pillows Nat has also chosen for you. Maybe that is also a big part of it, too.
> 
> The fact that you want to do as much for Nat as she does for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, it's time for Nat's chapter! :-) This is the first time Nat & the detective had an argument about something. Huge thanks to [elmshore](https://elmshore.tumblr.com/) for reading this over for me. ♥

You don't mean to lose your temper and snap at her and that is something you're prepared to vow on your knees until you're in your own fucking grave. Because you know -- you _know_ that Natalie Henrietta Sewell is an actual angel in disguise and you adore her more than anything else in this world and the next.

It was a bad day and you were just… frustrated as hell. That is a good word for it, you think. For being so damn human that you barely feel like you're any help at all compared to a group of skilled vampires and Nat's overprotective tendencies towards you further enhance your insecurities. You appreciate her concern and you know it brews from a cosmic sort of love, you truly do, but sometimes you also want her not to constantly walk on eggshells around you or risking a mission just to keep you safe. She’s done that a few times after you got together and it kind of drives you mad.

So, one day you start an actual argument over it.

Which is borderline stupid and mean and you're painfully aware of that, thank you very much. You're the farthest thing from proud of it. You never thought you were actually capable of making Nat upset or hurt her with your words, she's so kind and sweet all the _time_ and deserves a whole world in the silver platter and you just --

You sigh almost mournfully when Nat leaves your room with a bowed head and flinch at the sound of the soft click of the door as she presses it close behind her. You flop backwards on the bed and pointedly do not think about how Nat chose these sheets for you with great care and consideration. You feel awful and almost want to cry.

Yet at the same time, you know that at least part of you is right. You belong in the team now, you're a real member of Unit Bravo, skilled in your own way, and Nat doesn't need to coddle or protect you any more than anyone else in the team.

You can take care of yourself. You want to able to take care of _her_ , too, and maybe --

You sigh again and burrow your face into one of the fluffy pillows Nat has also chosen for you. Maybe that is also a big part of it, too.

The fact that you want to do as much for Nat as she does for you.

Because this is the honest truth you embrace, the one choice you won't ever grow to regret no matter what:

you love Nat Sewell so, so much, you don't even know what to do with that feeling.

*

It doesn't take you too long to find her because you can hear her first.

She's playing the grand piano in the warehouse's sitting room and you follow the flow of her music easily through the long corridors of your second home and pause at the doorway to watch her with folded arms across your chest.

She's so pretty, you think fondly. Her long fingers look good as they glide across the keyboard of the piano like a second nature. You know she's aware of your presence (can probably hear the frantic pump of your heart) but she doesn't stop playing until she reaches the end of the song and presses down the last notes of the melody. Then she turns to look at you.

You smile awkwardly. Open your mouth. "Hey."

"Hello," Nat answers softly. She doesn't quite smile but she doesn't look very upset either.

"I hope I'm not bothering you," you say and take a few hesitant steps into the room scratching the back of your neck.

This time Nat does smile. It's a gentle thing you feel like you don't deserve.

"As if you ever could," she says and moves to make room for you on the piano seat. She pats it invitingly and you obey instantly, sitting right beside her so close your sides are brushing against each other.

"Would you like me to play something for you?" Nat asks.

"Yes," you say, sounding a little breathless even to your own ears. But Nat only smiles again, seemingly pleased at your eagerness. You look at that smile. You look at that smile and you think that there will never be anything it's equal.

Nat considers you for a moment. "Any requests?"

"Play me your favourite," you finally decide and Nat hums underneath her breath before taking a deep breath and lowers her fingers on the piano keys.

You don't quite know what to name the feeling that flows through you when she starts playing.

First of all: it's painfully sexy in a way you haven't considered before. Secondly: it makes you feel so many things at once, it almost overwhelms all of your senses. 

You knew, of course, that Nat is gifted in many ways and music is just one of them, but you’ve never actually seen her play. You’re not sure why, exactly. Maybe the circumstances never allowed it. All you know now is that Nat playing the piano is one of the most attractive things you’ve ever seen. It chills you to the bone and you shiver before you lay your head against Nat’s shoulder and watch her long, elegant fingers slither on the keyboard in a hypnotising rhythm.

It’s perfect, you think. You cup Nat’s jaw onto your palm, pull her down and press a small kiss to her cheekbone.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur softly. You’ve never meant anything more. You want her to know that, you need her to know that.

Nat hums underneath her breath, hands never leaving the piano. “Me too,” she whispers.

You’re silent as she finishes up her concerto, not wanting to rush her in any way. A few long minutes pass and you keep your head relaxed on Nat’s shoulder and your other arm wrapped around her slim waist, toying with one of the belt loops of her jeans.

“That was pretty,” you comment when Nat stops playing and looks at you with a raised eyebrow and a shiver of a smile. Your clumsy words don’t really make justice for her talent, but you don’t have a lot more to give.

“Just as you are,” Nat says and you laugh and nudge her playfully with your elbow.

You’re aware you’re flushing like mad. You've learned that she is quite good at getting that reaction out of you. “Stop it.”

“Never,” Nat teases and then she kisses the corner of your mouth and you're glad to notice that she doesn't hesitate to do it despite your earlier argument.

“Nat,” you say after a while. You hide your face on the crook of her neck. “I really am sorry, you know. I mean it.”

“I know,” Nat says easily enough and lifts your chin back up with a gentle touch. She traces the corner of your lips with her thumb and sighs.

“All I want in the world is for you to stay with me,” she admits and that is something you are already aware of because it’s what you want as well. “I couldn’t live with myself if anything ever happened to you and I admit that it makes me occasionally a little… overbearing.”

Your smile is genuine. You will always love her. “I get it. I feel the same way about you, Nat.”

"You do?" She sounds so surprised it makes you ache. You don't want her to ever doubt your affection for her. Never.

"Nat… you must know that by now," you say. You take her hand into yours and swipe your thumb across her knuckles. "Otherwise I'm doing a _really_ shitty job at showing it."

Nat chuckles. The sound is lovely and you drink it in. "I don't think anything about you could be ever considered as 'shitty.'"

Her words make you smile and you squeeze her hand in yours.

"I will work on it," Nat continued then. You know she means it. "Because I want you to be aware that I trust you and your skills wholeheartedly."

"Thanks," you answer just before Nat kisses you, your accidental gasp muffled by her insistent lips.

It's a good kind of kiss; tender and comfortable in a way you're still getting used to. Nat's fingers comb through your hair as she guides your mouth with her own. You've never kissed anyone like her before, no one has come even close which is just another reason why Nat is so, so special to you it makes you want to cry a little.

"Now," Nat says after she pulls her mouth off yours and clears her strangled throat a little sheepishly. "Would you like me to play something else for you?"

You do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! Kinda lowkey tempted to write piano nsfw shenanigans after this.


	3. 3: first time farah confessed her love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Farah actually squeals, the sound high-pitched and delighted, before she leans in to kiss your red cheek, quite possibly leaving a glossy pink lipstick mark behind. But it’s not like you care even a little bit. You touch the side of your face and smile, but Farah’s attention is already back on her roller skates which she’s holding like they’re something precious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the warm welcome this series has had, your comments make my day. ♥ This one took a little longer, sorry about that, but here's Farah's chapter, finally. :-)

"Here, put these on," you say and hand Farah the newly bought pair of bubblegum pink roller skates you chose just for her.

"Aw, I _love_ the colour, babe! You're seriously the best," Farah gushes, making you flush in pleasure. Perhaps it’s ridiculous -- how you’re somehow ridiculously happy about her approval even in small things such as this. 

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you like her so much you're stupid with it. So stupid and so enamoured and the best part about it all, is that Farah hasn’t made it a secret that she feels the exact same way about _you_.

"At first I was thinking of going for yellow because, you know…" You clear your throat a little awkwardly. You have no idea why you still are so sheepish about saying it aloud -- it’s not like Farah doesn’t already know you would do anything, everything, for her. "Sometimes it feels like you're kind of my very own sunshine. Because you always, umm, make my day and my life better -- and other mushy stuff like that."

Farah actually squeals, the sound high-pitched and delighted, before she leans in to kiss your red cheek, quite possibly leaving a glossy pink lipstick mark behind. But it’s not like you care even a little bit. You touch the side of your face and smile, but Farah’s attention is already back on her roller skates which she’s holding like they’re something precious.

“I love mushy stuff,” Farah reminds you before sitting on the park bench with you hovering over her as she takes off her flowery flip flops and slips on the socks you gave her earlier. She puts on the skates without hesitation, but you, on the other hand, shift on your feet a little nervously as you watch her. You just don’t want her to get hurt.

It’s a silly thought and you know that. Farah is a _vampire_ , a practically immortal and invincible being, and here you are -- a common human -- feeling anxious about teaching her to rollerskate of all things. You can’t help how protective you feel because she’s simply so incredibly important to you that sometimes you feel like even a slight struck of misfortune can take her away.

“Do they fit okay? Not too tight?” you ask and Farah nods happily enough, her amber eyes shining as she looks at you. Her helmet is a little crooked and loose so you skate forward to fix that for her and you can’t quite resist pressing a quick kiss to its shining surface.

You notice a few people watching you from the other side of the Square, but you pay it no mind -- it’s not like you have anything to be ashamed of. Anyone would be lucky to be someone like Farah.

“Okay, good,” you say and take a deep breath. You loop your arm around Farah’s own and help her stand up, her feet stumbling a bit as you glide carefully a few feet forwards on the pavement.

“Woah!” Farah yelps as she’s about to fall down but you keep her steady with your firm but gentle grip on her arm, making your elbow pads pressing together a little uncomfortably.

“Careful,” you remind her and Farah nods. You skate slowly another small distance forward, both of you remaining up on your feet and Farah laughs, so extremely happy that it makes you chuckle fondly in return.

You would kiss her if you weren’t sure both of you would get too distracted and that isn’t really what you came here for. You came here to teach Farah how to rollerskate and that is the only agenda for today, no matter how adorable and attractive she is.

You sigh aloud, slightly besotted, and intertwine your and Farah’s hands and fingers together, your thumb sliding across her smooth knuckles. Farah grins, the expression warmer than a thousand suns and you know nothing will ever come even close to how you feel about her.

“I’ve got this, babe,” Farah assures you after only a few moments of skating around and with a blink of an eye she has escaped your protective grasp and moves with sudden ease 30 feet ahead of you as if she didn’t put on her first pair of roller skates fifteen minutes ago.

You stare, open-mouthed, as she does a little twirl of a perfect looking pirouette, looking like she’s done it a thousand times before. You’re pretty sure your jaw is all the way on the ground as you look at her practically dance across the pavement like she was born to do it.

“Farah,” you gasp, almost spellbound. "What are you-- please be careful!”

But Farah only laughs, possibly at your stunned expression, and your eyes widen even more as she does a little jump and lands perfectly on her feet, not wavering even a little bit. You’re more than a little glad that Ava or Nat isn’t here right now.

"Babe!" Farah screams happily as she zigzags a few trees and rubbish bin. She laughs as she almost stumbles on her feet before quickly finding her balance. "This is the most fun I've ever had!" she declares.

You blink and you blink before your own mouth corners turn upwards and you start laughing as well and skate towards with Farah who meets you in the middle. She circles you for a moment teasingly, just a little out of reach, before she wraps her skinny arms around neck and presses so, so close, her lips grazing yours as she whispers:

“I love you so much.”

You almost want to cry at the admission, not quite sure how to react at first because the swelling feeling of joy and adoration is so overwhelming, it almost knocks you out dead. You never thought you could have someone like her in your life. Someone so incredibly lovely and gorgeous it makes you want to weep.

But there she is: Farah Hauville. The most important and perfect person in the world for you, telling you that you’re that one same person for her, the one person who makes it all worth everything. It’s incredible. 

So, you know there’s no other words than this for an answer: “I’m in love with you, too.”


	4. 4: the first time ava kissed the detective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I just…” You pause and think. “Can you just tell me one thing? Just one.”
> 
> “Anything,” Ava promises immediately and you almost laugh because isn’t that the most ironic thing ever? Because the truth is Ava has so far given you _nothing_.

It's snowing, you notice.

It makes you pause for a moment at the Warehouse door to stare at the dark sky and the big, cotton-like flakes it’s spilling out, almost shrouding the stars with the thickness of the snowfall. But you can still see them, the twinkling of the winter constellations filling the dark void of space.

A pretty sight, something you don’t have a lot of time to appreciate anymore. And isn’t that such a sad thought? Sometimes it feels like you’re losing yourself one by one to this new world of the supernatural and the package it brings. You’re not upset, per se, to the turn your life has taken on the past year, but sometimes you miss being oblivious to this side of the world. If not for the four vampires that railroaded their way into your peaceful life, maybe you would have preferred that side of things, too.

You didn’t expect to find a new family and you certainly didn’t expect to find someone like Ava du Mortain. The third thing you didn’t know to watch out for was falling in love with her. One of the stupidest and most hurtful things you’ve ever done, but you know you wouldn’t take it back. It is what it is.

You slip your gloveless hands into your coat pockets to protect them from the cold and spend another small moment just looking at the world, not really knowing what you’re even waiting to happen. Perhaps it’s sometimes good to take a little moment just for oneself, you think and lean on the warehouse’s dirty looking wall.

A few minutes after this you notice you’re no longer alone.

“It’s a beautiful night,” Ava says right beside you and you flinch just a little as you turn to look at her. She looks as tense as she always does, but seems to relax a little when she notices you’re not as upset as half an hour before.

There’s a little moment when you hesitate before answering: “It really is.”

Ava shifts on her feet and then -- slides a little, just a little, closer to you when she notices you’re not opposed to her presence.

“It is seldom that we have time to enjoy the weather,” Ava says of all things and it makes you snort out a small, surprised laugh. You kick one of the stones underneath your shoes and watch it disappear into the forest.

“I don’t enjoy the coldness of the temperature but the snow is quite beautiful, isn’t it?” Ava continues and you can feel her gaze on you for what feels like a fraction of a second before she looks away again.

“Uh-huh.”

“Do you enjoy winter, detective?”

You sigh. There’s still remnants of tears on your face. God, you’re so stupid. “Ava… what are you doing?”

Ava winces and swallows hard. This time she doesn’t turn to look at you. “I am making conversation, is that not obvious?”

You shake your head and would probably smile if not the fight occurred between you only fifteen minutes. “I really don’t understand you,” you say, voice softer than you intended. You want to be angry, you want to be hurt, but instead you’re just... tired.

Oh, so impossibly tired.

Ava is quiet. “I do not understand you, either,” she admits just as softly.

“What’s there not to understand?” you ask and push yourself off the wall. Your hands are starting to get cold so you blow some warm air into your palms before glaring at Ava who towers over you even unintentionally like this. “Farah says I’m very transparent.”

“Farah is… keener than most people would expect,” Ava says, a touch of fondness in her words. “More so than I.”

You raise your eyebrow and Ava shrugs which the most human gesture you’ve ever seen her do. “Are you actually kidding me right now?” you snap. “You have to know. I know you do. Please, don’t --”

Don’t cry, you tell yourself. Don’t you start fucking crying right now.

“Please what?” Ava asks gently. Very gently, like you’re a spooked animal. It still doesn’t make you angry. It feels as if it’s already beyond you at this moment.

You shake your head. “I just…” You pause and think. “Can you just tell me one thing? Just one.”

“Anything,” Ava promises immediately and you almost laugh because isn’t that the most ironic thing ever? Because the truth is Ava has so far given you _nothing_.

“I want to know,” you start. Through it all, it has never stopped snowing. “I just want to know if--” You swallow, taking your time. “Do you hate me?”

Ava looks entirely surprised and she frowns so hard her brows are pinched together. “How can you even ask such a thing?”

You frown right back at her. “Because I don’t know the answer.”  
Ava seems…. horrified might be a good word for it. She looks like she’s completely lost for words, but is able to gather herself quickly as usual. She takes a wide step towards you and takes both of your cold hands into a tender grasp. Her eyes search your own and hold your gaze.

“Please believe that I mean with this my whole heart and soul: I could never in my life hate you. _Ever._ ”

Your eyes widen. Ava’s thumb rolls over your wrist, finding the warmth of your pulse. “The truth, quite frankly, is that I...adore you,” Ava says. “I adore you so much that I have no words for it. And that -- that is what frightens me more than anything.”

You cup her cheek with your palm, stroke the highest point of her cheekbone. You scarcely have enough hope in your body to believe her words. But there she is, Ava du Mortain, finally telling you what she feels. “Why does that make you scared?”

“Because I don’t ever want to lose you,” Ava answers, honest for the first time in ages. You’ve never seen her like this. “And that is something that will be inevitable. Whether is due to my mistakes, age, illness, Trappers or --”

You laugh -- you _laugh_ and cover her mouth with your hand, muffling her idiotic words before they come out. 

“Shut the fuck up, you idiot,” you say and pull her closer by her coattails, but in the end, Ava ends up being the one to kiss you first.

You kiss her right back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand we're done! ᵔᴥᵔ Thank you so much for reading, I had a lot of fun with this little series and might even eventually continue it further, who knows. Forever grateful to my friends & people who have supported my writing -- whether it's by comments or kudos or reblogs in tumblr! I see it and I love you! ♥
> 
> hmu in tumblr if you feel like it: [fauville](https://fauville.tumblr.com/).

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. ♥ You can find me in tumblr @fauville if you want to come say hi!


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